Thinking About You
by LightMyCandle1025
Summary: A glimpse into the thoughts of Roger Davis when he has left New York for Santa Fe. Takes place during the song What You Own RDxMM


Thinking About You

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Jonathan Larson. He's the absolute genius, not me. Thanks, Jon.

Roger squinted up at the sun as he strummed absently at the guitar in his hands. A young couple threw a dollar into his case as they scampered off, hands intertwined and laughing at the sunshine. A lump formed in Roger's throat. The couple were obviously in love. Had he looked that happy back in New York, when his hands were intertwined in hers?

He swallowed hard and signed. It hurt to think about her, but everything in Santa Fe reminded him of her, even though he'd come here to escape from her. Immigrants from Mexico, who talked fast and in a tongue he couldn't understand, reminded him of her when she got mad or when she spoke excitedly to Angel. She'd start jabbering in Spanish and he'd laugh and try to remember the few terms he'd retained from high school world languages class. Dance clubs brimming with overexcited teenagers and people his age reminded Roger of her passion for dance, and how she'd had to resort to working at the Catscratch Club to pursue it. He remembered standing in the back and watching her, feeling a bit angry at the men who lusted over her body, but then feeling triumphant as he was the one who had his arm around her waist as he walked her home. He seemed to see her around everywhere, but it was worse at night when he looked at the moon and remembered her big brown eyes and the night they'd met.

Roger couldn't understand why he still felt like this. Mimi didn't care. Mimi was off with Benny, wasting her life on the smack he'd tried so hard to get her to stay away from, getting her comfort from Benny's arms and not his...

He needed alcohol. If just for a brief moment, he needed to stop thinking clearly. He replaced his guitar and gathered the money at the bottom of the case. There was a pub down the street. He wouldn't get horribly drunk, like the nights back in New York when Maureen and Collins would bring over a seemingly endless supply of liqour and they'd sit around and drink, laughing at Mark for being such a wuss, and waking up the next morning, naked, wondering what they and their sugnificant other had done. What happened to those times?

Roger entered the dimly lit pub and sat at the bar. The first thing he noticed was the song playing from the jukebox in the corner. They had danced to this, he and Mimi had, at the Life Café, one night long ago. There came that lump again. Trying hard not to choke on his words, he ordered a beer and slid over the correct amount of money for it. He took a long sip and sighed deeply, still remembering. There were those eyes, those bright brown, laughing, beautiful, full of life eyes. He wanted them to go, to forget about her and what they had had. But, at the same time, he didn't want to forget. it was a strange feeling.

Deep down, he knew he loved her and thathe always would. She had pulled him out of something bigger than the both of them and had reminded him how to live. Why hadn't he ever told her this? He supposed it was because he was scared, scared of giving himself away and then losing it all, as he had with April. But what was it Mimi had screamed at him during one of their most recent fights?

"Damn it, Roger! I'm not April! I'm not going to kill myself, so please let me do what I want!"

She was right. She wasn't April. Mimi had a determination about her that April had never had. April gave in to defeat almost instantly. Mimi never gave up without her fiercest fight. She had once told him that all she needed was something she'd never really had: someone that believed in her and would stay by her every step of the way. She had put that trust in Roger. He had done a wonderful job of showing her he didn't want it.

How could he have been so stupid? Mimi needed him, needed his support, and, most importantly, his love. Another lesson to learn shouted at him by Mimi herself, this time at Angel's funeral:

"I'd be happy to die for a tast of what Angel had; someone to live for, unafraid to say I love you!"

He knew now that she had loved him unconventionally, loved him deeper and with more passion than anyone ever had. She would do anything for him, as long as he was there for her and loved her in return. Benny was just a friend, someone who offered a shoulder to cry on when Roger's wasn't available to her. Benny didn't need Mimi; Benny had his own cushy life. Mimi needed Roger, and Roger...

He needed Mimi.

As if in a daze, he downed the last of his mug of beer and ran out of the pub towards the shabby apartment he was renting. He grabbed the little box on his dresser that he stored his money in and counted it out, adding today's meager earnings. It was enough. It would leave him with nothing else, but it didn't matter. No price was too much to get him back to where he should be: with Mimi.

He raced to the bus station and bought a ticket to New York. He used a pay phone to call the loft. He waited for three rings before the familiar call of, "Speeeak!", screamed into his ear.

"Mark, it's Roger. If you're screening, pick up. If not, I'm coming home." He hung up the phone and dialed Mimi's number next, praying that she's answer so he could tell her that he loved her, that he'd be back soon, just to wait a bit longer. Why had he waited so long to tell her?

"Hey, you've reached Mimi..." Her machine. He slammed the phone down without leaving a message. He'd have to tell her in person. He lit a cigarette and waited a half hour for the bus, writing the first few lines to a song for Mimi. "Your Eyes", he called it. If it was any good, he'd sing it for her and she'd cry and she'd know that he cherished her more than anything else on the planet. The bus pulled up and he quickly put out the cigarette. He bounded onto the bus quickly. The bus driver was fat and bored-looking. He looked taken aback at Roger's broad grin.

"What are you so happy about?" the driver grunted.

"I'm going back where I belong," Roger replied simply, and he settled into a seat and continued to work on Mimi's song.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are wonderful, so please do, if you can. Also, please check out my other RENT fanfic, Live In The Moment. Thanks again!


End file.
